Waiting for the Beat to Kick in
by brencon
Summary: Craig Dean has returned to Dublin, yet the call home is constant. And then it stops, and he can't help wondering why. Sequel to "The Beat That My Heart Skipped"


I'd been back in Dublin for a few weeks when the first text came. John Paul was asking how I was, if I was coming back for Christmas, saying we should have had a drink and a proper catch up.

I ignored the first. And the second. And the twenty that came after. I couldn't just go against everything I'd said just weeks ago. It had to be all or nothing, either we were each others everyone or we should cease all communication; cut all ties so that the hurtin' was less. And I'd already lived through a year of pain; I don't think I could've survived another. And he had moved on; was in another relationship, so we had to sever all connections. I ignored all his messages.

And then they stopped. No more texts, nothing. I figured he took the hint.

Steph called me a few days later. Told me that Kieron was dead, and that John Paul hadn't left the house in days.

I left it a few days, weighing the pros and cons of calling him, talking to him, after everything that we'd been through, after being so strong when I had returned home and ended the whole thing between us.

But he was broken, and I felt my heartstrings pull.

So I called him, but hung up before the call connected, and twice more before I had the courage to do it.

"Hello… John Paul? John Paul, can you hear me?" There was this crackling, ruffling sound and the quietest of sobs.

"Cr…Craig?" He croaked. He sounded like he hadn't spoken in days.

I breathed a sigh of relief before replying, "Yeah, it's me mate. I heard about Kieron… I just wanted to call and check in on you, see how you were. I'm just sorry that we parted on such bad terms and I ignored your texts and then this happened."

He cleared his throat twice, hid a sob behind a cough and sighed heavily. I waited in anticipation for his answer.

"We broke up after you left, had a massive blow up, drag out fight, all because I wanted to be friends with you again. He wouldn't leave you out of it, asking if I had known you were coming back, if we had gone back to our sneaking ways and I just couldn't handle it. I ended things, all because he kept asking if I was still in love with you and I couldn't answer him. I couldn't admit it. So I broke things off and moved home."

"And do you?"

"Do I what?"

I was silent for a moment, gathering my strength before I asked him again.

"Do you still love me?"

He was quiet for so long I feared the phone was broken or I'd run out of credit (bloody roaming charges, why didn't I give him my Irish number?). And then he spoke.

"I do."

My heart sang out and a broad smile broke across my face. I felt as if I was on cloud nine.

"Craig? Are yer there?" He asked, his voice shaking with nerves.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm still here. I'm… I'm not sure what you want me to do with this news, John. There's no way I can come back, not in the middle of the first week off a new year."

"Isn't it fresher's week there, didn't Steph tell me when she… when she came to talk with me a few days ago? What exactly are you going to miss?"

He had a point, and more importantly he seemed to want me to come home.

I agreed with him and we began to chat about everything and nothing, catching up on what we've missed out in each other's lives for the past year. He told me about Carmel's wedding, with the roller skates and the tight dress and the Spice Girls. It was only when the church bell sounded out for midnight that I realised we had been talking for the past three hours nonstop and that we hadn't even realised.

I was the first to approach the subject of Kieron's death. He was restrained and silent about it at first, but once I told him there was no pressure, he was more forthcoming. He told me how he felt responsible, that Kieron was dead because it happened a day after they had parted ways and not on happy terms; that he blamed it on the fact that Kieron knew he still loved me. He told how it had taken Michaela of all people to get through to him that it wasn't his fault, that Kieron could make his own decisions, but it still took some time to click in his head, even after his talk with his mum, Jacqui, Mercy and Carmel (once she'd come home from her honeymoon to hear the news).

I'd remained silent, allowing him to release all of his thoughts and feelings of guilt and worry and shame and when he came to an end, he sounded relieved to have removed all of that weight from his chest.

We were both quiet for a number of seconds when he, in low tones that were barely above a whisper, asked me if I was going to come back to Hollyoaks.

"I will… on one condition," I began, leaning back in my chair and ruffling my free hand through the hair at the top of my spine, "which is that we start off afresh, have a couple of dates, talk – properly talk – and see how it goes. The slower path, not moving at speed like we did last summer. We need to get to know each other again, to catch up on our year apart… if that's alright with you?" I asked, taking a slow deep breath as I anticipated his answer.

"Us? In public? Doing couple-y stuff? Holding hands, kissing, hugging? Me and you?"

I laughed at how stunned he sounded but understood why.

"I've grown up a lot since last year. I know who I am now, what I want. Alright? And really, it's always been you that I've wanted. If I'd realised that a couple of years ago we wouldn't have wasted so much time, wouldn't have hurt so many people; wouldn't have hurt each other. We can be a great thing, John. I know it, I feel it. And I know that you feel it too."

He was silent for a moment, and then he was making plans for when I came back, and telling me when he was free to come over to Dublin and how we could work around each other's schedule for the semester.

--

Not even two days later I was back in Hollyoaks, my mum delighted to see me, all hugs and kisses and her dragging me upstairs to make me a sandwich and a hot tea. I couldn't get a word in edge ways and she had almost dragged to the stairs to the flat above when John Paul was at the bar, and he was shyer than I'd expected as I escaped my mum's firm grasp.

"Hiya," I smiled at him, leaning in and kissing him on the cheek in front of everyone.

I placed my arm around his waist pulled him into a hug were we stood for more than a few seconds.

I reluctantly left his hold.

"Just give me a few minutes to dump my bag upstairs and freshen up and then we can catch up, alright?"

"Course," he smiled, his beautiful eyes following my every move. I loved it all.

I nodded, asked mum to get him his usual on me and rushed up the stairs, dumping my bag in Salmon's room. I splashed some ice cold water on my face, took a few steadying breaths as I patted my face dry and, with one final glance in the mirror, I returned to the bar.

Grabbing a bottle from Darren, I joined John Paul by the fire. He was playing with the label on his bottle.

"How are you doing now?" I asked, resting the bottle between both hands as I sat on the edge of the stool, leaning towards him.

"Getting by. I'm just glad to have a reason to get out of the house, Mum's driving me up the wall and then with Jacqui and Tina at each other over baby Max it's just too much, I need a distraction."

"So it's a good thing I could get home again?" I pushed, drinking some of the lager.

"It really is."

We fell into a comfortable silence and when we finished our drinks, I realised I hadn't eaten since that afternoon before my flight back.

"Wanna grab a bite? I haven't eaten since noon and I'm needing something to ease the hunger pains I'm having."

He laughed, heartily, a toothy smile and his head thrown back and he looked so much better.

"I could eat. Ill Gnosh?"

"Yeah, if there's any free tables," I replied, lifting our empties and carrying them to the counter, where my mum was keeping a close eye on us even if it was just from the corner of her eye. I paid for the drinks and then told her we were heading for food so to not expect me for dinner.

She smiled at me, a genuine smile, and waved bye as we both left.

--

Once alone, I became shy and quiet and was acting like a kid on his first date. My hands were shaking and I was keeping a deep and important interest on my white trainers.

We were just coming up to the restaurant when I heard something that shook me from my nervous ways.

"…egnant," he finished, sliding his hands into his jacket pocket.

"What?!" I squeaked, my voice breaking through many high decibels.

And then he stopped for a moment and looked at me, serious as ya like, and finished by bursting out laughing.

You should see your face!" he gasped, doubled over an empty chair outside Il Gnosh.

I watched him, pleased to see him smiling and laughing and… glowing.

I waited for him as he caught his breath before moving to the entrance and holding the door open for him.

"Ladies first," I said, quickly followed by and exaggerated "Ow," after he punched my shoulder.

--

We finished our starters fast and then crashed into our main's like we had gone days without food and had stumbled upon an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Pouring another glass of wine for both of us, I replaced the bottle in the cooler beside our table. Clinking our glasses, we each sipped at our drinks and then our puddings arrived.

"What did you order for me?" I asked, staring at the odd plate of fruit and meringue and whipped cream.

"Isn't it obvious?" He smirked, watching as I poked at the plate.

"You know I don't like fruit for dessert, that it's chocolate or nothing. Yeah? Or ice cream. Not fruit and… whatever this is. Okay?"

He laughed at me as he dug in a fork into his plate and held it out to me, offering me to take it.

I reluctantly (although not really) accepted his offer.

"We're supposed to be starting from fresh ground, right? So, how can I know you're likes or dislikes when it comes to dessert? Eh?"

I laughed as he used my own reasoning against me and accepted another offer of cream and strawberries and meringue.

--

The night has ended. We had a couple of cappuccinos and paid the bill (we split the bill) and we continued to the McQueen house. As we reached his road, I felt my pace shorten and I was trying with all my power to avoid the end of this amazing night.

He followed my pace and believed that he felt the need for this night not to end.

I reached out and took hold of his hand, threading our fingers.

"I really enjoyed tonight…" I whispered, staring at the star-filled sky, watching as the suns and constellations sparkled above us.

"I did too. For the first time in a long time, I felt like my old self. So, thanks."

I smiled at him, watching as he grinned back. We had reached the door to the McQueen home. The curtains ruffled from the living room as Michaela and Myra's faces disappeared from the window.

The light above us flickered on and he sniggered at me, glancing over his shoulder at the window as well, were the bobble heads of his mother and younger sister quickly vanished from.

"Sorry 'bout them, but you know what they're like," he explained, shuffling.

I reached out and rested my hand against his palm. I felt warmth grow inside me as he leant into the touch.

"I'm just glad that Jacqui didn't 'accidental' spill our coffees on me lap."

"Well, she if she had, it would've been in my best interests really," he replied, taking a firm hold of my free hand in his own. He knotted our fingers as I rubbed my thumb affectionately against his cheek.

Leaning forward, I rested my forehead against his. Our eyes sparked as we delved deep into each others eyes. His eyes, such a different shade of blue, seemed to search my heart; my soul for some confirmation.

Tentatively, he rested his lips against mine in a chaste kiss. He pulled back, but I didn't hesitate. My hand fell from his cheek to his neck and pulled his face back to mine, our lips meeting once more.

After many minutes, or hours, or days filled with sunshine and showers, I pulled away, yet kept my forehead resting on his.

"I have to get back, my mum will be wondering where've gone!" I joked, enjoying the feel of his body against mine. I pulled his body flush against mine, resting my face in the spot between his neck and his shoulder, breathing him in.

The window behind us rattled in its pane and we separated, laughing at the ever-protectfull nature of the McQueen.

"I'll… call you tomorrow?" He asked, resting against the doorway behind him.

"That would be brilliant."

I leaned in and kissed him – short and sweet – hugged him goodbye and then I left, constantly staring over my shoulder at him, each time catching him as he waved at me.

Yeah, I was right to come back.


End file.
